


Lie To Me

by Shamandalie



Category: Football RPF
Genre: (of course), Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, footballer!Philipp, photographer!Bastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2474762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamandalie/pseuds/Shamandalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's like Philipp is some magician or something, because he appears when he wants and disappears somewhere unexpectedly, like he never was there in first place.(...) And Bastian is fine with that, because he's in love."</p><p>AU where Bastian is a photographer and doesn't understand much, except for his love for one particular, mysterious boy with blue, blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

They are young, so young, when they meet for the first time.

The small boy is sitting at the bar, looking through the crowd without any interest (or without any emotion, Bastian thinks, because boy's face is hiding everything behind facade of nonchalance) Boy's emotionless expression doesn't hide the fact that he's very pretty, though, and Bastian finds himself biting skin around his nails (he hates this habit, he hates all of his insecurities and he hates that he probably isn't going to talk with the boy, because yeah. Small, cute boys are so intimidating).

He's thinking about how tiny boy's hands look when he raises his glass and sips his drink and how cute is the way boy's pinky taps on glass while he's drinking. Bastian is so enchanted and even starts to consider walking to the boy, when someone surpasses him.

Bastian feels hint of jealousy; man is very good looking, tanned and so confident. He smiles at boy with a really charming smile, and Bastian would definitely let the man take him home. If he was the boy, that is. Men like this one never even talk to him.

But boy furrows his (big and cute) eyebrows when man approaches him. He says something and smile on man's face changes into frown, and then into anger.

Bastian can't believe boy said 'no' to the man. And it gives him courage; if man like this could get rejected by the boy, then he also can.

Five meters never been such a long distance to walk, but somehow he manages to get through them and then he sits on the stool next to the boy.

He feels a wave of relief when boy looks at him, because all the time he thought he would be ignored. And then, fuck. Boy's eyes are so blue, his eyelashes so long and Bastian freezes under the stare. He feels his acne almost burning his skin and wants to look away, but holds his gaze.

"You were staring at me for at least ten minutes," says the boy and Bastian blushes.

"Umm" he struggles for words and he knows he should flirt with the boy but he can't flirt and-

"They are real, you know."

Bastian is confused and boy smirks and Bastian doesn't know what's happening but he might be in love, just a little bit -

"Erm, what?"

"My eyebrows. They're real. I know it's unbelieveable and that you just couldn't help yourself but stare. Happens to me all the time."

Bastian blinks and then he realises that it was meant to be a joke so he tries to laugh. It comes out high pitched and very false and boy looks amused.

"My name's -"

"I don't want to know" boy interrupts him and Bastian freezes again, heart beating painfully in his chest. He's getting rejected once again, he realises, and this boy looked so nice and he just can't believe -

And then boy is pulling him near, so close that Bastian can feel the warmth of boy's body and they kiss, roughly, boy's tongue licking the inside of Bastian's mouth and Bastian never, ever experienced something like that. Fireworks explode in the back of his mind and he just wants boy close, as close as possible and he wants -

"Where do you live?" asks boy, pulling away.

Yeah, he wants that.

;;;

Door shut behind them when they stumble into Bastian's apartment, boy's legs around Bastian's waist, fingers pulling Bastian's hair and and tongue sliding over his lips.

"What's your name?" asks Bastian in between kisses.

Boy rolls his eyes.

"Please"

Boy looks like he's not going to answer, and Bastian wonders what made him so mysterious, so cautious. What teenage boys, barely an adults, have to hide?

"Philipp. It's Philipp.”

;;;

Boy – Philipp – has his eyes closed when Bastian fucks him. His long eyelashes lay on his cheeks and Bastian wants to kiss his eyelids. He decides not to, he doesn't want Philipp to think he's some weirdo, but he still can't tear his gaze from boy's face, from his parted, wet lips, flushed cheeks and furrowed eyebrows.

“You're so beautiful”, words fall from Bastian's mouth when he's really close to coming. He doesn't even have time to start regretting them because smirk appears on Philipp's face and the boy starts rolling his hips under him, working Bastian in instead of waiting for thrusts. Bastian comes at the sensation, of course, whole world spinning.

It doesn't stop spinning when Bastian lays boneless next to the boy. And it doesn't stop when boy finally looks at him with his blue, blue eyes.

They look at each other in silence. Bastian doesn't know what he is supposed to say, what you say in situations like this one. Philipp looks like he doesn't either, because he just throws sheets over his head, only eyebrows visible. Bastian chuckles.

“I'm going to sleep”, Philipp mumbles, “Aren't you?”

;;;

Morning sun pierces through Bastian eyelids as he wakes up. But the light doesn't bother him; he feels happy. Too happy, because he knows it was just a casual hook up, but he thinks that maybe if he will do boy breakfast, then -

And then he realises that he is alone in bed. That there are no other clothes than his own on the floor. That shower isn't running. That his little flat is so painfully silent.

Another thing he notices is the lack of a card, of a note, of number saved as “Philipp” on his phone.

The last realisation is that he wants to look into boy's blue, blue eyes once again. That he wants to look into them for the eternity.

No, that was second to last realisation. Last is that he's very lonely.

Very alone, in a room filled in photographs of various people.

Crowd of people staring blankly at him. This particular shade of blue is nowhere to be found in their faces.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My relationship with chaptered works is like the road to hell: paved with good intentions. But since I already finished chapter three, I'm brave enough to post the first one here. Mostly to see if it's good idea to continue writing. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.  
> Unbeta'ed, all mistakes are mine, please let me know etc
> 
> Title taken from 'Lie To Me' by Shane Mack. This song was an inspiration for this fic so hey, go and listen to it!
> 
> I'm p-lahm on tumblr, come and say hi :)


	2. Chapter 2

He looks up and these pulsing, bright lights blind him, just as he wanted. Music is pumping through his veins amd he feels hot breath on his neck, just before man dancing with him decides to kiss him there. It's wet and disgusting and one another time this evening Bastian has to step back, shot the man an apologetic look and return to the bar.

He's not shy anymore. And now, almost every man in places like this wants to have him. It should make him proud, somehow, but it doesn't.

Bastian is romantic at heart, has always been, and even though one night stands seemed exciting to him a year ago, he would prefer romantic walks in the park right now.

He orders another drink and starts drinking it, grimace appearing on his face as a reaction to strong taste of vodka.

“Too strong?”, he hears. He considers ignoring the voice, he's really done with all the men that night, but this voice sounds familiar.

He turns back and, oh. Blue, blue eyes. Long eyelashes. Big eyebrows. That smirk. Bastian wouldn't trust his knees, if he was standing.

“That vodka is just too cheap, tastes bad”, he answers, voice cranky.

“Let me buy you something better, then.”

Boy sits on the stool next to him, feet hanging loosely. Bartender winks at him as he orders their drinks. Their whiskey. Their Johnnie Walker. Bastian can't afford Johnnie Walker at gay clubs.

Bartender, Simon, really gets on his nerves when he winks at Philipp once again while pouring them their liquor. He wants to tell him to mind his own buissness, but Philipp looks like he didn't even see those winks, so he stays quiet.

Bastian sips his drink in silence and then he notices that boy isn't drinking.

“You aren't drinking. ”

“And you're a brilliant observator.”

Bastian doesn't like this comment, and he considers talking back, but then he notices how tired Philipp looks (he's slow at noticing things).

“Why aren't you drinking?”, Bastian wants it to sound caring. The thing is he doesn't know how to exactly sound caring, because he never really cared for anyone.

“It's my job. I shouldn't drink.”

“You'll be sober by tomorrow's morning after just one drink.”

“It's not about that.”

Philipp looks like he won't continue, and Bastian wants to ask about what it is, then, but decides not to push. Boy looks grateful when he doesn't ask next question.

;;;

It's a symphony. Allegro: lust makes them lose their minds for a while; they run up the stairs, stopping between floors just to kiss, fast, unpatient, like it couldn't wait. Bastian pins Philipp to the wall when they enter the flat and smaller man wraps his legs around Bastian's waist.

And there's adagio: Philipp slowly kisses Bastian's nipples and stomach and thighs and licks tip of Bastian's erect member. Bastian watches in slow motion as Philipp fingers himself and then starts to ride him and, god, symphonies are so amazing. Moans escaping Bastian's lips are obscene, he knows that, but Philipp looks him straight in the eyes while impaling himself on Bastian's cock and....

And adagio turns into scherzo, Bastian toes curl and he grips on Philipp's hips so tightly that it'll surely bruise. He grabs his boy by neck as he rolls them over, switching positions. Philipp screams into pillow when Bastian slams against his prostate, beads of sweat on his temple and shaking lips. He strokes boy's cock with his hand and after few, quick thrusts they both come, Bastian biting his lips to blood.

Fourth movement doesn't really happen. They just lay there and Bastian is worried, because he doesn't want boy to leave. He knows he has to do something to stop him from leaving -

“You're a photographer, Bastian Schweinsteiger.” says Philipp.

“I didn't even know that you knew what my name is.”

Philipp slowly nods.

“I checked.”, he licks his lips, nervously, as it seems, “Before I left. I felt like I had to.”

“Why didn't you stay?”

Philipp doesn't answer, he just stares at ceiling.

“I like your photos.”

“Can I hug you?”

Philipp shots him a puzzled look.

“Why are you even asking?”

Bastian shrugs and shifts closer, wrapping his arms around smaller boy. Philipp sighs and nuzzles his nose into Bastian neck and that's it. Bastian might be in love. In that moment, at least.

;;;

“Have you ever been in love?”

The room is dark and street lights put shadows on Philipp's face as he lays on the bed, between white sheets.

“I don't think I really know what love is.”

Bastian smiles and throws dog end of his cigarette out of the window.

“Aren't you a bit too serious for a nineteen year old?”

Philipp bites his lips.

“I can't be in love with a man. And, in my case, it doesn't seem likely that I'll fall in love with a woman.”

Bastian tries to understand, but he really doesn't.

“Why can't you? I mean, you're grown up, even if your parents -”

“Please don't ask.”

But I want to know, he wants to say. I want to know everything about you. I want you to be here every night and every morning.

Instead, he lights up another cigarette and inhales deeply.

“Fine.”

;;;

It's like Philipp is some fucking magician or something, because he appears when he wants and disappears somewhere unexpectedly, like he never was there in first place.

He never comes up with excuses, though. He stands in Bastian's doorstep and kisses him, without saying “Sorry I'm late”; he dresses quickly, because he's already late, he should be somewhere; he doesn't come when he was supposed to and knocks on the door late in the night, when Bastian wasn't expecting him. And Bastian is fine with that, because he's in love.

And he realises that less he knows, less it is going to hurt him.

;;;

They are watching some second class horror movie, limbs tangled, Philipp's hair in Bastian's mouth and Bastian's heart beating firm, but achingly, against Philipp's back.

It's late and it's one of these moments when Bastian wants more. He wants promises, he wants everything he can't get.

He kisses Philipp's hair and the boy moves his head slightly.

“Bastian.”

Lie to me, Bastian thinks. Appease my aching heart. Tell me you love me, even though I know you don't.

“I'm moving out.”, Philipp says and Bastian doesn't understand. He never was in Philipp's house anyway, so..”Out of Munich. Out of Bayern.”

No.

“Wh -”, Bastian mouth goes dry. “Where?”

“Stuttgart.”

“Why?”, it's barely audible, because it doesn't matter why. What matters is that Philipp is leaving and Bastian's throat feels so tight and his vision is blurry and he won't cry, he won't.

Philipp shakes his head and, of course. He won't say. His boy for fucking doesn't need to know shit, does he. Bastian stiffens, but he doesn't want to look dramatic, so he doesn't untangle himself from Philipp. But smaller boy feels the change between them and finally looks up to Bastian. His blue, blue eyes are sad (maybe, or maybe not, Bastian doesn't think Philipp cares at all, he wouldn't be leaving if he did, and Bastian never could read from his face anyway.)

“It's only temporary. Few years, maximum”

Bastian wants to laugh. Few years.

“Can I visit you there?” asks Bastian pathetically, even though he already knows the answer.

Philipp's eyes get even sadder at the question.

“No.”, he says and.

Bastian blinks, because he won't cry. He tries to smile.

And Philipp must see it in his eyes, because he does what Bastian was silently praying for, what he needed to keep himself going. He lies, finally lies.

“We'll see each other again, I promise.”

We won't, we won't, we won't. Bastian wants to destroy something, wants to throw things, but he doesn't have a right to. They aren't in relationship. They never were. And now it's obvious that they never will.

Philipp stands up and Bastian immediately feels cold and empty, because he doesn't have him close.

“I should go. I'm leaving early in the morning and I have to pack few more things and-”

Excuses, finally.

“Go,” says Bastian quietly.

“I'm sorry, Basti, I -”

Well, that's fucking good time for calling each other cute nicknames for the first time.

“Just go.” cuts Bastian.

Philipp nods and few seconds later, he's gone.

Bastian curls up in the ball on the couch.

My blue, blue eyed boy, he thinks. And then he cries.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapters will be longer. Probably.  
> And I swear that hurting Bastian Schweinsteiger isn't my hobby.  
> How was it?


	3. Chapter 3

It's middle of the night and Bastian is drinking white wine which he usually loathes, but needs in that moment. He's rearranging his photos on the white, dirty wall, trying to fit one of his new black and white ones in (He's very proud of them even though his last boyfriend, Karl, wasn't very fond of them. People look sad on them, he said. They are depressive, he said. Making my head ache, but not as much as you and your constant mopping, he said, and it was one of his last words to Bastian) when he hears a knock on his door.

It surprises him and he really hopes that it isn't Karl (He had, probably still has, heavy hands and can be easily annoyed and Bastian doesn't want him anymore. In fact, he doesn't want to see him ever again.)

But when he opens the door, he actually regrets that it isn't Karl. He'd know how to behave, how to deal with Karl, if it was him.

“Hi,” says Philipp.

He is shifting from one foot to the other in girly manner and it's really adorable. Bastian wants to hug him, wash this nervousness of him, but. He shouldn't.

“It's been over a year. I'm over you.” he just says, his gaze avoiding those blue, blue eyes.

“Oh.”

Combing his hair with his fingers is another nervous habit Philipp has. It's also adorable, but Bastian won't admit it.

Philipp is looking at the floor.

“I just wanted to talk. And. I thought about you because – Nevermind. I'll go -”

Boy turns away but he doesn't move. His shoulders are shaking slightly. He looks vulnerable and Bastian never expected to see something even close to this, so he has to give up. Not giving up wasn't even an option, anyway. He sighs.

“I guess you can come in.”

Philipp looks at him and his eyes are watery and they are oh, so blue. He shots Bastian a weak smile and walks in, crossing arms around his chest and sitting, uncomfortably, on the couch.

Bastian pours him a glass of this disgusting wine he was drinking before. Their fingers brush when Philipp takes his glass from him and Bastian closes his eyes for a second, because even a brief touch makes him feel dizzy. Philipp always makes him feel dizzy and he hates the boy for that.

Philipp taps on his glass with his pinky.

They stare at each other in silence, even tough Bastian wants to scream. Scream from happiness, because he returned. Scream at him, because he left in first place. Scream from pleasure. Scream just to fill this silence.

“I fell in love.” Philipp says suddenly and that's it.

Bastian wants to laugh. Shatter me, you're welcome. Hurt me, that's okay. Just don't leave again.

“Who's the lucky guy?”

Philipp bites his lips and looks away from Bastian, like saying the name was going to reveal some secret, like it was forbidden to say it.

“Timo. His name is Timo.”

Why is he better than me, Bastian wants to ask. Why do you love him, not me. He stays silent and watches how single tear escapes Philipp's eyes. He wipes it away angrily.

“Aren't people in love supposed to be happy?”

Philipp barks a laugh and shakes his head.

“Why aren't you happy?”

“We can't be together.”

Well, I've already heard that before, Bastian thinks.

“Why?”

“It's my job. I just -” he hides his face in his face and Bastian thinks that he'll never understand him. “I just can't.”

“So maybe you could change your job, if the people in your current one are so homophobic.”

“You don't understand.”

“Explain it to me, then.”

“Ugh,” Philipp stands up abruptly and looks around, avoiding looking at Bastian. His hands are clenched in fists and knuckles look white. “I can't.”

Bastian wants to hit him, shout at him, kiss him and hug him all at the same time.

“Looks like there's loads of things you can't.”

Philipp puts his glass on coffee table and starts walking towards Bastian. Then he stops, bites his lips and takes one step back. He looks distracted and panicked and Bastian doesn't understand shit.

Philipp takes a deep breath.

“Kiss me.” he finally says.

Bastian laughs bitterly.

“You want me to fuck you so you can forget about him. You want me to fuck you so he will have reason to leave you. You want me to fuck you because it's the easiest option for you right now,” Bastian huffs, “What about me?”

Philipp doesn't move, doesn't respond, but his eyes are big and they are begging.

It takes all of Bastian's strenght not to run to him. He takes few long steps instead, stopping in front of Philipp, close enough to hear boy's ragged breath.

He places his hand under Philipp's chin and lifts it. He looks in those blue, blue watery eyes and joins their lips together.

His heart aches.

;;;

3 am is the time of demons, Bastian knows that. But for most of the people, these demons aren't touchable. You can't hug them, you can't inhale their familiar (to you) scent. Bastian can.

Comparison to demons comes to Bastian's mind when after at least half an hour of cuddling Philipp untagles himself from Bastian, stands up, dresses and tells him that he has to go, because he's leaving early in the morning.

“I thought you came back.”

“Oh. I've forgotten to tell you -”

“Looks like you have.”

Bastian is bitter and he knows boy knows that. He doesn't care, because he doesn't deserve to be treated like that.

“I'm sorry.”

What suprises Bastian is that Philipp actually sounds sincere.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

Philipp is looking at his feet, again, and Bastian loves him oh, so much. He wants to wrap him in blanket and make him tea and maybe cuddle some more. An then he wants to take him for walks in the park, for trips outside city, for their honeymoon.

“Hurt me? You don't hurt me. We were never a couple, so how could you hurt me? I know I'm only the boy you like to fuck.”

Bastian doesn't want to say that, but. Maybe it's better to say that than “I want you to stay here forever”, or something in that manner. Bastian isn't pathetic, or at least won't be ever again.

Philipp doesn't respond for a while. He just stands in front of Bastian, looking lost and confused, like some puppy. Bastian thinks the boy needs to leave immediately. He says it to him.

Philipp nods, grimace on his face, like he just swallowed some bitter pill. He leans down and hugs Bastian, but it comes out awkward, since Bastian doesn't return the hug. Philipp leaves after that, quietly, as always. Like ghost haunting this place and Bastian's heart.

Bastian wonders if he hurt Philipp. He doesn't feel any satisfaction recalling the words he said, and he thought he would.

He came here because he was broken hearted, Bastian, he thinks. And he left even more hurt. Way to go, Schweinsteiger.

He runs to the window, in hope that maybe he still will be there.

And he is. He's standing on the pavement, arms around his small waist, waiting.

He opens the window and wants to call him, but it looks like he isn't the first one who thought about that.

“Hey”, Philipp's voice is all soft when he answers his ringing phone. “No I'm..nowhere- Yes, I will be in hotel soon – I'm sorry I worried you -”

Bastian takes his camera from window sill and turns it on. Some things has to burn to stop existing.

“I just freaked out when you told me – “

He turns the colour on when taxi finally arrives.

“Ok, I have to go – I love you too.”

Bastian takes one photo.

Philipp turns back at the sound and looks up.

Gold light of the lantern makes Philipp's eyes look like an ocean on a stormy day. Like an ocean on a day when the sailors don't return home.

Bastian takes another photo. He'll burn that one.

Philipp shots him a puzzled look and enters the cab; Bastian doesn't want him to come back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll get happier after chapter four, I think.
> 
> Thoughts? x


	4. Chapter 4

“I'm back!”

He has never seen Philipp so happy and excited before. The boy is beaming, his eyes shine happily.

Bastian laughs, surprised, and pulls him into warm hug, immediately forgetting everything he vowed to himself.

“Hi”

“Heeeey,” Philipp snuggles closer and giggles, “I missed you.”

Bastian's heart starts beating faster at the confession, and he almost forgets that -

“Honey, who's that?”

Well, that. Philipp's eyes widen in shock when Bastian immediately pulls back, almost tripping over his own doorstep, cheeks red.

“Errrm, no one!” he shouts back.

And Philipp's smile disappears.

“I'll go.” he says and Bastian wants him to stay, of course he wants him to stay, he always wants that, but now even he knows Philipp just can't stay.

But before he gets the chance to say anything, to apologize, they both hear footsteps approaching and the next second, Lukas is hugging him from behind and resting his chin on Bastian's shoulder. It's cute and usually gives Bastian butterflies in his stomach. Usually.

“Well. I must say that this someone doesn't look particularly big..but he doesn't look like no one neither, babe.”

Bastian blushes and wants to apologize for Lukas calling Philipp small, but the boy doesn't look very offended. He is studying Lukas' face, clearly interested and not really impressed (but what Bastian can know, he's really bad at reading Philipp's emotions).

Bastian doesn't notice awkward silence during which both of the men are looking at him expectantly until Philipp clears his throat.

“I'm Philipp, Bastian's..friend”

They shake hands, Lukas smiling widely.

“Lukas! Bastian's boyfriend!”

Philipp looks like he wants to escape and this is so, so awkward.

“It's nice to meet you, Lukas.”

Lukas looks at Bastian like he wants something and Bastian doesn't understand.

His boyfriend sighs and rolls his eyes.

“You're not really bright one, Basti.”

Philipp shivers at the word and Bastian pretends he didn't see.

“I'm making a dinner, would you like to come?” asks Lukas, looking at Bastian in you-rude-shit-you-should've-asked-that manner.

Philipp shakes his head vigorously.

“Oh no, I can't -”

“Oh! Come on!”, Lukas grabs Philipp's arm and almost pushes him into the flat, “Please! You two have to tell me how did it happen that this huge photo of yours,” he points at Philipp, “ is hanging on Bastian's bedroom wall.”

Bastian is going to die during this evening, that's for sure.

“My photo?” asks Philipp unsure, looking at Bastian for an answer.

“Yeah, that one when you're standing in front of this building?”, continues Lukas while pointing Philipp chair he is supposed to sit at, “Y'know, I looked at your face during sex too many fucking times, man.”

“Oh my god, Lukas!”, Bastian shrieks in terror, his face turning red. Again.

Philipp has his lips in shape of an 'o' and gives Bastian a furious look.

Lukas doesn't seem to notice anything.

“Okay, lovelies, now I'll go back to the kitchen for few minutes and then you'll eat the best food you had in days, ok?”

They nod and Lukas leaves, to relief of both men.

“It will probably be poisonous.”, Bastian tries to joke.

Philipp doesn't respond, he just looks at Bastian with his blue, blue eyes, emotionless expression on his face. Like he suddenly turned all his feelings off. How does he do that?

“I have a wall full of photos in my bedroom, I don't know if you remember? Yours is only one of them.”

Philipp opens his mouth and then closes it. Bastian is nervous, so nervous, and he doesn't know why. He takes one napkin from the table and starts tearing it to pieces.

“So, you're back, yeah? For good?” he tries to start conversation again.

“Bastian. I'm sorry I came here.”

Bastian shakes his head.

“No -”

“Bastian,” Philipp reaches and squeezes his hand, “I'm sorry I always expect you to be here for me, whenever I want it. I'm sorry that I didn't move on, as you did. I won't bother you furthermore.”

He's so serious when he lets go of Bastian's hand and turns his head away.

Bastian wants to say that he never moved on, you can't move on from this blue, blue eyes, but. It isn't the right thing to say when your boyfriend is cooking you dinner in your kitchen.

“I feel like a stranger in my own city, in my own house.”

Bastian holds his breath. Philipp's voice is barely a whisper and these confessions seem so unreal. Mysterious, cautious boy opening up for him is something he never thought he'll see.

“When I was away – It seemed that it wasn't really different there, really. But I let myself do things I'd never do here.”

“Like falling in love.” says Bastian and it still hurts. After all this time, it still hurts.

Philipp looks at him. His eyes are dry and very clear, smirk on his face bitter.

“Yeah. Like falling in love. Or whatever it was really,” he reaches for clean glass standing on the table, all ready for the dinner. He pours some water to it, but doesn't drink. He just taps on the glass, “It's just. When I returned I realised I'm no longer able to live in this regime I enforced on myself. But I have to and it's hard.”

He takes one sip of his water, and his adam's apple moves up and down. Bastian wants to kiss him there.

“And I just thought that here I'll feel more at home. Because you – You are-”

Lukas humms happily as he enters the living room with three plates in his hands, one balancing dangerously on his arm.

Bastian could murder him.

“Dinner is ready, boys!”

Philipp bows his head down, like the wooden table suddenly became interesting.

Lukas doesn't notice a thing, of course. He's light headed, happy person, and love seems to be very simple with him. That's why Bastian likes him. That's why Bastian would like to fall madly in love with him. It didn't happen until now, but it will, Bastian likes to remind himself.

All the untold things hang heavily on Philipp's and Bastian's shoulders. Bastian doesn't know how to behave, what to say. Lukas doesn't help.

“So, where you two met?”

Philipp shots him short, uncertain look. Bastian clears his throat.

“At a bar.”

Lukas laughs, delighted, and Philipp raises one of his impressive eyebrows. Bastian is just a bundle of nerves. Please, please, like him, he thinks, like Philipp's approval of his boyfriend was the most important thing.

“Gay one? Like, you were karaoking I Will Survive together and then you became pals for life?”

Philipp's second eyebrow raises. Bastian laughs and hopes that Lukas doesn't realise it was forced.

“Have you ever been in gay bar, Luki?” Bastian looks at Philipp apologetically, “Lukas started to be active in community only recently.”

“Yeah, I lived in Poland before and it's harder there. You must take me to a gay bar, though. I feel like I'm missing something.”

Bastian nods and looks at Philipp, searching his face for some reaction, but he sees nothing. His smile is blank and forced, rest of the face emotionless.

“Poland you say?”, Philipp continues with the conversation, clearly to avoid awkward silence.

“Yeah. I actually moved here from Poland when I was little, lived in Germany for few years, and then I returned to Poland again.”

Confusion looks adorable on Philipp's face and Bastian wants to hit himself for mental swooning over him.

“So why you returned to Poland? Don't you like Germany?”

“No it's just,” Lukas' smile fades a little, “I wanted to be footballer, you know.”

Philipp twitches. Some emotion flies through his face, but it disappears too fast for Bastian to recognize it. Lukas doesn't notice a thing.

“I played a lot. But I was not good enough. So I moved back to Poland, because level is lower there – but they didn't want me neither.”

“I'm sorry,” says Philipp and it's cautious. Blue eyed boy looks at Lukas like he's expecting something, like he's preparing himself for something and it's so weird because Bastian doesn't understand what's going on.

“Football is shitty anyway,” adds Bastian, in attempt of thinning the atmosphere, “It's just twenty two twinks running after the ball without any purpose.”

Philipp's eyes are so wide when he looks at him, and he opens his mouth to say something. He doesn't.

“Well, the purpose is to score a goal, Basti,” laughs Lukas, “But I guess you're right, it's a bit senseless. I don't even watch it anymore.”

Bastian smiles at him, crinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. Lukas smiles back at him, looking like a little sun.

“You're so cute when you do that.”

“What, Luki?” asks Bastian flirtanously.

“Smile.”

Bastian can hear Philipp inhale, and that's what brings him to reality. Blue eyed boy looks tense, his cheeks are red and Bastian's heart breaks a little at the sight.

Philipp takes a bite of his pasta, chewing like it was some torture. Then he takes another sip of his water and puts his fork down.

“I should go.” he says, slowly nodding. It looks like he's trying to compose himself and Bastian wants to wrap his arms around him, because this boy is so, so broken and never shows any of it.

“What? No, you haven't finished -”

“Lukas,” cuts Bastian and his boyfriend looks at him, confused.

Philipp stands up.

“Uhm, sorry Lukas, your pasta is really great and -”

Lukas is looking from Philipp to Bastian and back and then he literally slaps his face with his palm. Philipp almost jumps at the sound and Bastian wants to ask what the hell is Lukas doing -

“Oh, I get this now! Philipp is your ex, isn't he?” Lukas laughs, looking at them fondly, and really, Bastian thinks, what the hell is wrong with him. “That's why you are so awkward with each other”

Philipp just stands there, mortified, and looks at Bastian, searching for help.

“Ummm,” says Bastian intelligently as he abruptly stands up, “I think I will show Philipp the door -”

Lukas laughs.

“Fine, fine. It was nice to meet you, Philipp”

Philipp smiles and quickly walks towards door. He opens them and starts running of the stairs, shouting quick “bye” over his arm in Bastian's general direction.

“Why are you running away? Wait!”

Bastian runs after him.

He cathes his arm when they get out of the building. Philipp looks at him bewildered, his face full of some unreadable emotions.

“I'm sorry,” says Philipp, his voice hoarse and eyes looking like a stormy ocean, again.

And suddenly, all the times Philipp said that he can't do something make more sense. Because, in this moment, there's so much Bastian wants to say (like 'say you want me' or 'stay' or 'I need you') and he just can't.

He just holds Philipp's arm tightly.

“Bastian, let me go. You don't want to do this.”

“Do what?”

Philipp turns his head away. Bastian wants to run his fingers through his hair, wants to kiss his temple, to kiss his neck, feel his pulse under his lips and leave his mark there.

“I know how you look at me, Basti.” says Philipp quietly.

Bastian doesn't respond.

“And you deserve better than me,” blue eyed boy continues, and Bastian thinks he can hear pain in his voice, “Lukas is great. You should stick with him.”

“I know.” he answers and Philipp finally looks at him.

Bastian wants to kiss him softly everywhere until smile appears on his face again. Instead, he reaches out and closes Philipp in tight embrace.

Say you love me, it's really all it takes. Say you love me and I'll be yours.

They stay hugged for few moments, Batian inhaling Philipp's scent and praying. Silently praying for Philipp to say these words.

But Philipp doesn't say anything. He just pulls back, squeezes Bastian's hand and walks away.

 

It feels like a one last goodbye. It feels like they are never going to see each other again.

Bastian doesn't watch the street for few other minutes after Philipp left it, no, he doesn't.

And he certainly doesn't return to his flat only to desperately catch Lukas' mouth between his lips. He doesn't fuck his boyfriend even harder than ever in attempt of forgetting, he does not.

And if after he sits at the edge of the bed, smoking cigarette after cigarette, looking at the picture of Philipp he has taken, no one has to know.

And if he feels like he's going to suffocate, there's smoke to blame.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is. Schweinski sucked the life out of me, how you people are able to write it I'll never understand.  
>  I'm not sure if I like it. Anyway, I hope you do.


	5. Chapter 5

Man standing in front of him strikes a daring pose and licks his lips, smile full of confidence appearing on his face. Bastian wants to roll his eyes at that. He learned that most of the models behave in that manner, and it doesn't affect him anymore.

He just wants to finish this photoshoot and go home.

“Can you turn your head a bit to the left, please? Your jawline will look better this way -”, says Bastian in tired voice.

Model winks at him as he moves how he was said to. Bastian ignores that, making a mental note to himself to leave this shitty job right away. (Or as soon as he can. As soon as he can be jobless without turning into an actual beggar, that is.) Taking nude photos of vain men in rich and posh neighbourhood of Munich was never one of his dreams, anyway. (Or maybe it was, when he was fifteen and wanted to get a proper glimpse of some dick.)

He takes another few photos and thanks the man for cooperation, hoping to never see him again.

He packs his equipment and leaves the posh studio, inhaling deeply fresh air. God, everything looks so expensive here, pavements are clean and grey flats of blocks are nowhere in the sight.

Bastian hates it here, but probably only because of jealousy.

He considers calling for a cab for a moment, but then decides to enjoy the part of the city he won't ever live in.

He starts to walk, humming happily. After all, this photo shoot will give him some money, so maybe finally he'll be able to afford taking someone out for a date or maybe he'll buy his mother this purse she was talking about recently..He smiles to himself, walk washing bad emotions from whole last week of him.

After few minutes of strolling through various streets filled in luxurious apartments he enters some little store, to buy water.

He searches through the shelves, trying to find some normal bottle of normal water, not that extra ecological shit costing more than an euro for a bottle, and then. He hears someone laugh.

He straightens his back immediately, and in panic looks for some ways to escape, because he knows that laugh. He knows it too well.

But it's too late. He hears Philipp say “thank you” to someone, and then his boy appears in the same alley of this shitty, expensive store Bastian is in.

It's funny, isn't it. One job in some upper class part of Munich and he meets Philipp. It's funny, because he thinks, of course. Of course he's some rich, powerful guy, that's why he was so cautious all the time. He wouldn't want to be seen with someone like Bastian, gay undergraduate freaking photographer. He probably has a wife, two children and golden retriver, what the hell were you expecting.

Philipp notices him, would be hard not to, and freezes.

And altough Bastian wants to laugh hysterically, although he wants to escape, his mind mimics Philipp's movements and just stops. It's like the whole world stopped, because he's standing in front of him. And, oh, his poor aching heart, Bastian doesn't think he can be called a boy anymore.

He's older, even more serious than before (but the crinkles around his eyes give him away – only laughter could turn them into such nice shape). He looks good, healthy and tanned, which is the exact opposite of Bastian, with his cigarette and coffeine addiction, purple bags under his eyes and skin the colour of vampire Lestat.

Philipp looks at him with fond eyes. With fond blue, blue eyes that still drive Bastian crazy.

“Bastian,” his voice didn't change, it's still very funny and cute, and Bastian really hopes that he doesn't have this fucking golden retriver. Or kids. Or wife.

Bastian wants to run to him, close him in suffocating hug and never let go, and it's so pathetic.

“You have grey hair,” there's something that sounds like regret in Philipp's voice. But it's not new that Bastian imagines something connected to Philipp. What he has to regret?

“Just here,” Bastian points at his temples.

Philipp laughs, quietly, still looking fondly at Bastian, and he can't believe that their first conversation in years – yes, in years – is about his freaking hair.

Bastian doesn't know what to say next. I missed you? I thought you will come back? Love me?

But this time, when he looks in Philipp's blue, blue eyes, he thinks that the boy – man- understands everything he wants to say but doesn't. That he has always understood, only Bastian didn't see it.

“Do you want to go for a walk with me?”, asks Philipp, and it sounds like apology.

It sounds like a hope, also.

;;;

Post-orgasm blackouts are Bastian's favourite, even more when he has Philipp under him, desperately pushing his boneless body off him and catching a deep breath.

Bastian laughs and tries to wrap his arms around smaller man.

“Oh, no no NO,” says Philipp, laughing in between heavy breaths as he sits on Bastian again, “I'm getting revenge for almost crushing me here”

“Revenge?” Bastian raises his eyebrows and tries to tickle Philipp, because his laugh is the cutest thing on earth.

Philipp waves his hands frantically to avoid Bastian's fingers even touching him.

“Yeah, revenge,” Philipp smirks and bows down.

Philipp's tongue traces around his collarbone and crevice above it for few long seconds, and then his lips curl around one, sharp part of visible bone, sucking his mark there.

Bastian inhales shakily and hiffs, because, god, Philipp is sucking so hard and he really would like to see those lips around something else than his collarbone -

“Done!”

Philipp smirks and stands up, leaving Bastian moaning from the loss of contact.

“Why you have to be such a tease -”

But Philipp disappears in the bathroom and Bastian has to bite inside of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling too widely.

Philipp returns with damp towel and cleans them both up, concentration painted all over his face.

“Your wrinkles are cute,” says Bastian and Philipp looks at him doubtfully, but not losing a smile.

“As much as your grey hair, old man.”

Bastian groans.

“I'm not even thirty -”

Smaller man smacks him delicately with the towel.

“ I know, I know, I'm just joking”

Later that evening, Bastian learns that smiling can hurt. But what a blissful pain it is.

;;;

He doesn't know who they are, how to label their relationship. He wants to know (saying that labels doesn't matter is the biggest lie person can ever tell, if you ask Bastian.), but is too afraid to ask. And maybe it shouldn't be this way, maybe it's not healthy.

Every night he's alone in his bed, every day Philipp doesn't pick up his phone, he decides he'll ask the next time they see each other. And every time they meet, Philipp smiles so sweetly and his eyes shine brightly and Bastian just doesn't want to burst their happy bubble they live in since that accidental meeting.

But, god, he hopes he isn't only Philipp's boy for fucking.

;;;

And maybe Philipp knows that Bastian needs something more than before, because things change. Slowly, almost unnoticeably, but Bastian never misses these little things.

But he can't say that he isn't surprised when Philipp walks in, annoyed, and asks Bastian if he doesn't want to take a walk. Or something.

Bastian looks at him, not really saying anything, because -

“I'm so fed up with spending time with you only in this place,” continues Philipp, “It's so small and ugly and sometimes I feel like I can't breathe properly here – no offense – and I know it's my fault that we're sitting here all the time and- I also want to tell you something -”

“Can I take my camera with me?” interrupts Bastian.

;;;

Bastian feels like a teenager, who just got asked to a first date; excited, nervous, and so happy that he could kiss some stranger on the lips just to spread happiness like a virus, so everyone got to feel like he feels.

Philipp smiles at him fondly, but he acts with much more reserve. They walk side by side, but not touching. Philipp is wearing Bastian's big hoodie, his tiny hands in the pockets of it. He looks cute, so Bastian snaps tons of pictures of him. And tons of pictures of trees, and at least a hundred of this little pond they pass by -

"Basti, I'm sure someone at least once told you that quality is more important than quantity."

Bastian shrugs, frantically taping his figer on camera.

"Some of them will be good. Maybe. You know, I'm not the best photographer. And now I'm - I don't care that they won't be good - "

"God, Bastian, stop talking so fast. And moving so fast," Philipp grabs him by the hand, squeezes it gently and Bastian's heart is in his throat. Which is embarrasing, considering how old he is (It isn't his first date, for fuck's sake. Although it feels like it.), "Are you nervous?"

What a stupid question it is, of course he's nervous. He loves this boy since they were eighteen, and for the first time it feels like they're getting somewhere. This date, this walk, it all feels like promise. Promise of happy ending, maybe. Promise of not everything being miserable and bad in Bastian's life.

"A bit."

Philipp squeezes his hand again and then lets it go; sudden wave of disappointment floods Bastian, but he tries to hide it.

"Why?"

Bastian thinks that maybe, just maybe, if they both were more comfortable with sharing their feelings, it would make everything easier. For now, he just takes a deep breath and -

And Philipp squeaks when football hits him. Some kid starts to run in their direction, eyes wide open, apologizing. To Bastian's surprise when ball bounces and starts rolling on the pavement, Philipp doesn't raise his eyebrows giving a child a scowl, only stops it by his feet. He bounces it few times on his knee and passes it to the kid, who looks at them bewildered before thanking Philipp and running back to his collegues.

Bastian raises his eyebrows.

"You can..you know..football."

Philipp rolls his eyes, not losing a smile.

"What an amazing vocabulary you have, dear. Yes, I can football."

Bastian shrugs, looking into the sky and trying to look unaffected by the nickname.

"You know, my brother is a footballer."

"Yes, I kn - I mean, is he?"

Bastian punches Philipp in the arm.

"Oh, so you're finally admitting that you've been stalking me?"

"No I - God, just tell me about your brother."

Bastian laughs at Philipp, at how distraught by this whole conversation he looks.

"His name is Tobias, he plays for Bayern reserves."

Philipp nods.

"It's big to play for Bayern, even if it's only second team."

"He's the captain. I don't really know anything about football - nor I care about it - but if he's good enough to be second team's captain, then he should be good enough to play for the first team, right? But apparently he's not. I bet he would be even better captain of teh first team than the big star who's holding the position now."

Philipp raises his eyebrows.

"But you don't even know who's the first team's captain."

"And I don't care, I still know Tobi would be better than him."

"It's sweet how you believe in him, but isn't it important to judge people's, even the ones in your family, abilities objectively? I'm sure there are people in Bayern who know what they are doing and they have their reasons for why your brother isn't in the first team. Also, how can you judge someone who you don't know? Whose name you can't recall?"

Bastian waves him off, annoyed.

"Oh, I hate all those super popular footballers with their fast cars, skinny models hanging on their arms and gel in their hair. Like that Ronaldo dude. They earn too much and think that they're almighty."

"And that comes from the mouth of a man with footballer brother."

"He's different."

"I bet he is."

For the first time during whole exchange Bastian actually looks at Philipp. Older man has red cheeks and is fixing his hair nervously. He isn't looking at Bastian and his lips are pursed in tight line, like he's stoping himself from saying anything.

"I didn't know you were such a football fanboy, Philipp," Bastian says cautiously, "I didn't mean to offend you."

Philipp sighs.

"You didn't."

"I-"

"You really didn't, Bastian."

Bastian nods, still feeling uncomortable and a little nauseous (Did he really fuck up his -somehow- first date with Philipp?).

They walk in silence for few minutes. Bastian snaps few pictures of little squirrel, and ducks at the pond, but he lacks his previous enthusiasm.

"You wanted to tell me something," younger man finally breaks the silence.

Philipp shakes his head.

"It doesn't matter now."

Bastian hangs his head lowly.

"Bastian. Stop moping."

"But you're angry at me," he answers quietly.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Jesus," Philipp rolls his eyes. He looks around to make sure no one is looking in their direction. Then he stands on his tippy toes and gives Bastian quick peck on the lips, "I'm not. Alright?"

Bastian smiles.

"Alright."

;;;

Philipp stays at Bastian's that night, which doesn't happen very often. Bastian cherishes every moment of it. He kisses Philipp's hair when they are watching tv, hugged, and wants to freeze time, just to stay in this moment forever, when everything is perfect. When he doesn't have to worry about their future.

But when Philipp's breath gets steady and his body becames heavy against Bastian's chest, the feeling of unease sneaks into younger man's mind. Maybe now everything is perfect, but what exactly he knows about the man sleeping on him? As much as he did all those years ago - almost nothing.

And he still is Philipp's big secret, even though he doesn't know from who he's being hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, new year 2015 is full of surprises, like Lie To Me update. I have no idea when next one will happen.  
> Anyway, unbeta'ed, enjoy, leave comments and kudos and stuff xx


	6. Chapter 6

Bastian has always felt like a black sheep of the family - not as talented and successful as his brother, not as capable of holding his life together as his parents. Not exactly a bad person, but someone who's never good enough. That son which questions about you dismiss with a wave of a hand, only to tell how your older boy is doing. And he's doing great, always great. Bastian tried to hate Tobi, once, but never could. Instead he tried to pretend that he hates his occupation - football, that's for muscly idiots, and Bastian is an intellectual, thank you very much. He even tried philosophy course once, but resigned after not being able to understand what's the big deal about Plato's Cave.

So, Bastian is an intellectual and doesn't need any help, obviously. Only when Tobi gets him a job as a main photographer's assistant during Bayern's first team photoshoot with Armani, he's ecstatic. And hugs Tobi so tight, that the older man can't breathe.

But, hell, this is his chance. For people to recognize him, for finally making some good money from his photos. Maybe he'll get somewhere, at last.

After the ecstasy passes, he gets nervous.

'What do you mean it's tomorrow? Why couldn't you tell me earlier? I'm not prepared!'

Tobi rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his disgusting eco tea.

'Stob being drama queen, Bastian. You'll be fine. I haven't told you before because I heard them talking about the assistant being sick only today.'

Bastian groans.

'I'll fuck it up.'

'You'll be fine. Now shut up.'

***  
He gets up early this morning, nervousness barely allowing him to function properly. He drinks his coffee, and texts Philipp.

_Big day today!! Wish me luck_

**Good luck :) Some photoshoot?**

_Big one!!! Tell you all about it later ;) Are you coming tonight?_

**We'll see ;)**

He smiles and silences his phone, so it won't distract him.

He has problems choosing what to wear. He's going to meet famous people. Famous, good looking people. Famous, good looking men in Armani suits. It's like a wet dream, honestly. He chooses black skinny jeans and plain white t-shirt, since Philipp recently showed signs of distraction while looking at him when he was wearing exactly that. He looks good and it gives him boost of confidence, until he realises that he totally screwed up.

'Fuck fuck fuck _shit_ ,' he moans and looks at the clock. Too late. Too fucking late.

He knows shit about Bayern's first team footballers. He wanted to Google them all, to see how they look like, to memorize their names. He's forgotten. _Shit._

He leaves, thinking how irresponsible he is and how he totally can't recall any other name except from Arjen Robben, and he's still not sure if that Robben dude is the bald one, or maybe the one with the scar on his face. God dammit.

He arrives, feeling completely nauseous, 15 minutes late. Judging by all luxurious cars standing in front of Armani's studio, footballers are already here.

The main photographer looks at him like he's really big pile of bad stinking shit. But then he shakes his hand, says he's glad Bastian is already there and tells him he'll be responsible for behind the scenes photos. It basically means that Bastian has to wander around footballers during preparations and take photos of them. Shouldn't be too hard.

He enters main room, where all the tailors, hairdressers, photographers and - obviously - footballers are making so much noise that Bastian immediately gets migraine. He turns on his camera and snaps a photo of man in afro, currently shirtless, showing some weird dance moves. Few other footballers are cheering on him by shouting 'aye aye' really loud. He leaves them to that.

Some hairdresser accidentally elbows him in the ribs when he's passing him by and Bastian stops, not believing that you can apply gel into hair with such passion. The currently tortured footballer shots him a tired look and Bastian smiles to him. He looks nice – cheekbones all sharp, and blue eyes. Bastian has a thing for blue eyes. Footballer returns the smile, but Bastian just got reminded of Philipp so he just nods, and turns away.

Next thing he does is questioning his sanity, because he hears Philipp's laugh. And he can't be here, can he? Bastian is only completely mad, because one moment he's thinking about Philipp's eyes and next he's hearing things.

Only he isn't mad, because when he turns in sound's direction, he's here. Philipp is here, wearing a suit, some man kneeling in front of him, needle in his mouth, stretching his pantleg. Philipp doesn't pay much attention to the man - he's completely concentrated on the footballer standing next to him, who's mimicking vividly and apparently making Philipp genuinely happy. _Wait_. Footballer. Man talking to Philipp is a footballer, because he's wearing a suit. But Philipp - his Philipp, who he loves since he was eighteen - is also wearing a suit. Which can only mean one thing.

Philipp is an asshole. And a liar. And Bastian is close to having a mental breakdown in a room full of Philipp's fucking teammates.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He also shakes his head, to avoid any possible tears leaving his eyes. God, he's such a fool.

He takes one photo of The Asshole, because damn, he looks so good. Too good. Crinkles around his blue, blue eyes, this scruff which feels so soft and tickly under Bastian's touch, the suit fitting him perfectly. What a masterpiece that bastard is.

Philipp's friend makes him laugh again (does this dude ever stop talking?) and then fixes Philipp's tie. The gesture, probably full of innocence, seems too intimate for Bastian's liking, and when Philipp jokingly slaps man's hand and says 'Don't touch!', Bastian is close to murdering the other man with his bare hands. He doesn't get the chance, though, because in that moment Armani's worker struggling with Philipp's pantleg pricks him with a needle.

Philipp jumps a little and takes his eyes off his friend, and, obviously, that's when he spots Bastian. He freezes, looking a bit panicked, and his friend's gaze follows his without missing a beat.

'Who's that?' he can hear him ask.

And when Philipp starts shaking his head and says 'No one', Bastian turns around and tries to leave as fast as he can without actually running. For a moment, he hopes that Philipp will follow him, tell him to stay, but deep down he knows there's no chance for that.

He pushes the door open and that's when he stops. He's no longer a child. He won't run. It's his chance, his job. And, most importantly, Philipp would probably want him to leave. He knows that Bastian would forgive him almost everything, so he would let him leave, and then he would apologize and still keep his life and Bastian apart. Bastian won't give him this satisfaction. He'll stay, he'll take photos.

So he does exactly that. Philipp watches him, of course, with worried face, and Bastian wants to scream at him. _You bastard_ , he thinks, _after all these years of loving you do you really think I could just out you to your teammates?_

He leaves after the main photographer tells him he finished photoshoot. The footballers will be undressing now, it's not the time for behind the scenes photos. He can feel Philipp's gaze on him when he opens the door, but he doesn't look back.

***

After he gets home, he lits his cigarette and opens cheap wine in cartoon, because that's the alcohol he can afford. Then he googles Philipp.

Philipp Lahm. Born 11th of November, 1983. Defender. Captain of Bayern and German National Team. /Captain. He talked shit about Bayern's captain not so long ago, no wonder Fips got offended. After digging through some interviews and videos, he finally googles the most important thing, and learns that his girlfriend is called Claudia. He looks at their photos from Oktoberfest, and slowly dies from jealousy, because he really wanted to go out and drink with Philipp during Oktoberfest, unsuccessfully. Of course. He closes his laptop, and swallows the rest of his wine in a single gulp.

'Fuck me,' he says, and goes to sleep.

***

When he wakes up, it's the middle of the night and Philipp is sitting in the legs of his bed. He's got the key, and Bastian was expecting him to turn up (well, at least he /hoped he would turn up), but well, waking up to someone who wasn't there before sitting on your bed isn't the most pleasant thing.

'What the hell you're doing here?'

Bastian's sleep voice doesn't sound as angry as he'd like. He wants to shout at Philipp, tell him to get lost, but he only sounds tired.

Philipp shrugs. The light from lantern outside is flickering and puts shadows on Philipp's face. If Bastian's tired, then man in front of him is exhausted, by the looks of it.

'Thought I should see you,' he says quietly.

'As you had shown many times, you have no obligations towards me.'

He still isn't angry. But he knew, didn't he? He always knew he was being hidden, that Philipp had many secrets. The fact that it's secret so big that Bastian should've discovered it ages ago doesn't change much. It just adds up to the emptiness Bastian feels.

Philipp sighs. He's curled up, chin resting on his knees, eyes sad.

'Wasn't it hard? Hiding me from everyone? Hiding everything from me?'

He doesn't respond, and. Bastian really deserves some explanation.

'You could have told me,' he says bitterly, 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because then we would be a thing,' he says in a brittle voice, 'You would be my secret boyfriend and. I never wanted that. I never wanted to be secretly dating anyone.'

He stops for a moment, clearly struggling with whatever he has to say.

'I just wanted a lover. Back then. Whatever.'

Bastian wants him to stop talking. And disappear.

'I should've married Claudia when I had a chance,' he adds bitterly, 'But I couldn't -'

He wanted to marry her, how fucking nice, Bastian's going to cry.

'And it's all your fault. I never wanted you to happen. You...you fucked up my whole life.'

His voice breaks a little at the end and. Bastian just inhales. And then exhales. He hears his heart beating loudly in his chest. He's waiting, just waiting for pain to take his breath away. It doesn't. He feels nothing, he is nothing. Philipp sniffles, and that's what brings him to life.

'Get out.' he says, as calm as possible.

He looks Philipp in the eyes, to show that his words have no impact on him, that he can't hurt him and. Philipp smiles, and it's a smile of a broken man.

He opens his mouth to say something, and it looks like he's struggling with words once again. Bastian waits. It's not like he will hear something he haven't heard before. It's not like he will say something what will break him even more, because he already is. Nothing.

Single tear escapes Philipp's eyes.

'I love you,' he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know the way I treat this fic is unacceptable, please forgive me, have an update.  
> To justify my behaviour a bit, I had two ideas on how Bastian should discover Philipp's identity and it gave me 6 months long headache :D  
> Big shout out to Dante, Holger and Thomas for making a guest appearance.  
> How was it?? xx


	7. Chapter 7

'I love you,' he says.

Three words that Bastian wanted to hear for too many years to count. Words that he imagined Philipp finally saying, in completely different circumstances than this one. He looks at him, at his boy, at this man he knows nothing about, and wave of disappointment floods him. He doesn't feel the happiness he expected after hearing the words. He feels nothing. And the man in front of him is nothing he ever wanted. Talk about fucking up someone's entire life, huh.

But...he still loves him. He does. And he has no idea what he should do with that love. So he lays down on his pillow again, and closes his eyes. He's tired. And if he can somehow delay dealing with Philipp, he will do just that.

'Bastian?' asks Philipp, unsure about what's going on, and Bastian just slowly shakes his head. Not now.

He falls asleep to sounds of Philipp's ragged breaths and sniffling.

;;;

When he wakes up, the room is painted gray from autumn morning light, and his legs feel heavy. Philipp is sleeping on them, curled in fetal position, still fully clothed, although he managed to loose his boots. Bastian sits up and stares at him for few long minutes, angry and confused. The thing is, Philipp looks innocent and vulnerable when he sleeps. He looks like he needs someone to take care of him. And maybe, just maybe, he does. Maybe he should have this person, in who's presence he could be fully himself. He never trusted Bastian to be this person, though, and it's possibly the thing that hurts him the most.

Philipp wakes, maybe under the pressure of Bastian's stare, or maybe because he's used to waking up early. Sleepy blue, blue eyes look at Bastian with confusion for a few seconds, and. And Bastian feels tears swelling in his eyes, so he does one thing he can do to stop them from spilling - roughly kisses Philipp on the lips.

Smaller man doesn't respond at first, it's clearly not what he's expected, but melts under Bastian's touch just seconds after. He tries to grab Bastian's hair, which he does almost always when they have sex - he tangles his hand into his hair and then pulls it, or holds his neck, or just lays his hand on his head - and Bastian loves loves _loves_ this, so he slaps Philipp's hand this time, disallowing him to do so. Philipp looks at him with wide eyes, but Bastian is too concentrated on taking Philipp's clothes off without actually tearing them, so he doesn't notice it.

He pins Philipp to the bed after the man is undressed, a bit too forcefully, because Fips yelps. Bastian freezes for a second.

'Sorry,' he mumbles.

'It's fine, it's fine,' says Philipp a bit breathlessly and wraps his hand around Bastian's neck, to bring him closer. Bastian kisses him deeply, and for a second, he forgets that it's meant to be their last time, rough and without feelings, like the first one they had. He forgets, because Philipp tastes so familiar, and his kisses feel like home. And even when Bastian is being rough with him, Philipp takes it all, is patient with him. Because he knows that Bastian sometimes is unable to express his emotions through words, he has to show them through action. Maybe Philipp truly does love him. Maybe.

And now they're kissing like they always used to, routine worked over the years, and Bastian can't take this. He ends the kiss rapidly, and shoves Philipp away, almost violently. Philipp looks at him, calm, too calm, like he's waiting for Bastian's next move, and is going to accept it no matter what. _We should stop that game we're playing_ , Bastian thinks, feeling a little sick, _It's wrong. It's all wrong._

But he looks at Philipp again, at his chest raising and falling with his heavy breathing, at his erection full on display, and he. He will have his last time.

'Hands and knees, Philipp.'

He can't stand Philipp's eyes piercing through him, so he turns his head away. Philipp smirks, maybe, he isn't sure, and then does as he was told to. Bastian kisses his spine.

Older man doesn't need preparation. They've been having sex regularly, often, and. When Bastian enters Philipp, he thinks only about how he doesn't want it to end.

;;;

'Who are you?' asks Bastian after his breathing steadies, and after post orgasm blissfulness passes. He lits his cigarette, even though he knows Philipp will hate it.

Philipp is still laying with his face in the pillow, just as he came, sweat on his back muscles shining in the morning light. He raises his head at the question and immediately fixes his hair. _Of course footballer's nervous habit would be fixing his hair_ , Bastian thinks, _of course._

'I'm a footballer,' he says in tired voice.

Bastian shakes his head.

'No, I mean who are you, really. What makes you you.'

Philipp doesn't even laugh at that, doesn't tease Bastian about how philosophical he sometimes gets. He just sits down, still naked, and shrugs.

'My intelligence on the pitch. My ability to read the game. My cool head.'

He stops and looks out of the window. Maybe he needs to find the courage to be fully honest. Bastian takes his camera, always laying on his nightstand, and snaps a quick photo of him. Corners of Philipp's mouth raise, but never turn into a full smile.

'My height also makes me me. I had to learn to play with it. I had to be confident with it around the men who are all taller than me -'

Bastian inhales the smoke, thinking about how his lungs fill with it, slowly killing him. A bit like love. Philipp would say that romanticizing dangerous and possibly deadly things is wrong. Bastian doesn't care.

'I'm articulate. I always know what to say. And I'm Bavarian.'

Bastian coughs, but it doesn't fully conceal the laughter he had to stop from escaping.

'I am, Bastian. And I always felt it was connected to being.. traditional.'

'Oh yeah, I read your interview with that gay magazine. Nicely done, I must say,' he knows he sounds bitter, but he can't help it, 'You must be proud of your PR abilities. Accused of being gay, you give a gay magazine a interview, to prove you aren't homophobic. And to the question if you can imagine yourself falling in love with a man, you perfectly avoid answering with saying that you have _traditional_ views on family. Nicely done.'

He ends with a huff and takes another drag of his cigarette.

'I don't know if you're mocking me or not,' says Philipp quietly.

Bastian shakes his head angrily and stands up. He dresses up, and Philipp follows his movements.

'What I meant is, is being gay something what makes you you, or you just ignore it?'

'What a stupid question, Bastian. Of course it's what makes me me. I would be someone else if I wasn't gay.'

They stand across the room, as far away from each other as possible. Philipp has his expressionless mask put on his face, and his arms crossed. Bastian just stands there, trying to be strong, and end this, once and for all.

'Someone better?' he asks, and Philipp looks hurt by it.

'Someone _else_ ,' he answers sternly.

They stand in silence after that. Bastian doesn't know what to say, so he just stares at the photos on his bedroom wall. Faces, faces, faces.

Philipp takes one step closer.

'Basti. Listen to me. Are you listening?'

Bastian drags his eyes away from his photos and looks into his boy's blue, blue eyes. He nods.

'I know I'm an asshole. I know I don't deserve you. But I also know how hard this been on me -'

'Oh, poor you,' interrupts Bastian.

He sees tears in Philipp's eyes before the smaller man turns away from him to wipe them off.

'I love you. I meant it,' says Philipp after he calms himself down a little, 'I- I can break up with her.'

Bastian laughs, this throaty short laugh without even drop of humour in it.

'Yesterday you said you never wanted to secretly date anyone.'

Philipp opens his mouth to say something, but Bastian doesn't let him.

' _Yesterday_ ,' he says forcefully, 'You said I fucked up your entire life.'

'I didn't want to say it,' says Philipp quietly.

'But you did. And now - Now what? You suddenly want a secret boyfriend? You suddenly love me?'

'No suddenly, no, I have loved you -'

'Haven't you thought about that maybe I don't want to be your secret boyfriend?!'

He shouts, he knows he started shouting, but he can't help himself. Philipp's head is hanging low, and Bastian hates it, but he hates it all, hates that they never could have what he wanted for them -

'I never wanted to be your secret, Philipp! I wanted to be with you. I wanted to take you out on dates, I wanted to introduce you to my parents, I wanted to marry you even, and still, after all these years, the best you can give me is this secret boyfriend crap?'

Philipp is shaking his head, and he looks broken, so broken.

'It's fucking disrespectful, Philipp.'

'I - I can't give you more,' his voice is on the verge of breaking, 'I just can't.'

'You know why you're still here, Philipp?'

His voice suddenly is so calm, calmer than it ever was talking to this man. Philipp shakes his head.

'Because I was scared. I was scared of living without you. But you...you are scared of living _with_ me. So yes, you're an asshole. And this is the end.'

Philipp's eyes go wide at this. His lips are trembling and he tries hardest not to cry. And Bastian, he just feels empty. And surprisingly calm. He feels like he has finally made good decision, even though his heart is pounding in his chest, every beat telling him to take back these words.

Philipp looks like he's fighting with himself, like he doesn't know what to do, or say. But he doesn't argue, doesn't beg. Instead, he smiles. Just smiles this really beautiful, heartbreaking smile. _He understands_ , Bastian thinks, _always had. He knew, even before Bastian, that the only thing glueing them together was Bastian's naiveté. And he always knew how it was going to end._

'It's probably best for you, Basti,' he says, corners of his mouth still raised.

He closes the distance between them and hugs Bastian. He still smells like sex, and Bastian's heart aches.

'I'm sorry,' Philipp whispers, and lets him go.

Bastian just stands there, baffled, and watches Philipp as he puts on his shoes, and fixes his hair. He's so beautiful, his boy. No longer his. No longer boy.

When Philipp gets to the door, he turns around.

'I'm so proud of you, Basti. And I wish you all the best. Truth to be told, I kind of hoped you would make that decision, because this,' he waves his hand between himself and Bastian, "wasn't getting us anywhere. And I always knew that."

His blue eyes are so, so sad. And Bastian just wants to see the crinkles around them.

'But tell me one thing,' continues Philipp, 'Just one thing, okay?'

Bastian's throat feels so tight and he fears that his voice will break, so he just nods.

'In few years - I'm not asking you to wait for me, don't worry, I just want to know - In few years, I will finish my career. And if...if I saw you somewhere after my retirement. Could I ask you out for a date?'

'Would it be a secret?' asks Bastian in a thick voice.

Philipp slowly shakes his head.

'Then yes,' he answers, trying hard not to cry.

His blue, blue eyed boy smiles softly again and leaves, door silently shutting close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO. One chapter left people!  
> We'll have another time jump and I'm excited :)  
> How was it??


	8. Chapter 8

Sometimes, they see each other, and it doesn't let Bastian forget. Not that he wants to.

First time after ending it, they see each other almost year later, during another Armani photoshoot. It's a bit painful, Philipp's eyes lingering on Bastian, and Bastian trying hard to avoid talking with him. Some things are different, though. Bastian is the main photographer, because his last year's behind the scenes photos became so popular that he had actually gotten a full time job with Armani.  
And Philipp (But maybe Bastian is mistaken) looks a bit happier and less tired. And when year ago they pretended to be strangers, now they really had become them. After finishing his job, Bastian returns to his newly bought flat, and his heart almost doesn't ache.

In the following years, seeing each other becomes easier. Bastian travels a lot, taking photos of top models all over the world, and Max has most of his attention when he's in Munich (He has kind, brown eyes and really low voice and Bastian thinks that they probably could become a thing for years). Sometimes, he watches Bayern, sitting with Max at Allianz Arena and cheering really loud when referees and then Philipp, with captain's armband on, leads his team on the pitch, and even louder when they score. Max is also extremely jealous that he has the chance to see entire Bayern's team every year, so Bastian takes him to his next photoshoot. Philipp doesn't seem bothered and even talks with Max for a bit. It's nice. It's...better.

And then, they stop seeing each other. First, Bastian leaves Germany for Canada, and stays there for almost a year, mostly photographing nature and arguing with Max. Then, he spends two hot months working for Vanity Fair in Los Angeles, during which he snaps photos of celebrities and attends countless cocktails and barbecues, pretending he actually _knows_ someone there and is way more important than he actually is.

It all, it makes him happy, it makes him rich, and, frankly, it makes him quite popular in Germany. So he returns there, to collect awards he got for his Canadian pictures, to say hi to his newborn nephew. And then he stays, because Munich is his home and his heart, and there's no better place than the one your heart beats for, no matter how shiny and adventurous LA or any other cities may look.

He stays, and Armani welcomes him back with open arms, just in time for Bayern's photoshoot.

He watches footballers entering the studio. Most of them are much younger than him now - it's been so long that Fips now must be a real football grandpa, he thinks, and laughs. He notices Thomas Muller walking in and waits for Philipp to follow shortly. These two became inseparable in recent years, and if it wasn't for Lisa, Bastian would probably think they were something more than friends.

'Hi Bastian!'

Thomas pats him excitedly on the back and opens his mouth, unfortunately.

'I'm so glad you're back, man. Last year was a nightmare, we had to make this stupid faces, you know, and the main photographer told as to look above camera so we all look like we're one second away from bird pooping on our heads-'

'Where's Philipp?'

'And I look really unflattering on - Oh?'

Thomas grows silent and it's so uncanny that Bastian's heart actually stops for a second.

'Is he okay?'

Please, let him be okay. Please, please, please.

'Oh, no, he's fine,' says Thomas slowly and gives Bastian sad, but knowing look.

Bastian turns his head away, because. Thomas can't /really know anything about them, can he. Philipp would never tell him about them.

'He just finished his career.'

***  
The man is sitting at the bar, face locked on the bottles behind barman's head, emotionless expression on his face. His feet are hanging loosely in the air, and when he drinks, he taps on the glass with his pinky.

Bastian watches him for few, long minutes.

Philipp's temples have first shades of gray on them, and the crinkles around his eyes deepened a little. Except for that, he looks young. And healthy.

He doesn't feel really comfortable here, Bastian can say that. His shoulders look tense, and his gaze doesn't leave the bar. It's weird, attending galas and after parties should be a normal thing for a footballer to do. But maybe, it felt normal for him only when he had a reason to attend - to receive an award, to thank someone in the name of team. Now he is here for his own pleasure, in definition, of course.

Bastian nervously fixes his tie. Five meters have never been such a long distance to walk, and he isn't sure he wants to go through them. He can still leave, he knows that. He doesn't have to talk with Philipp. They haven't made any promises.

But, it's his boy, his blue, blue eyed boy, and even though he's scared, he takes this few steps.

He sits on the stool next to Philipp, and. Next thing he sees are these blue eyes he's crazy for, and the smile, all big teeth and crinkles around his eyes.

'You were staring at me for at least ten minutes.'

Bastian chuckles. It's all so familiar, but also very new.

'It's your eyebrows, you know. They are so ridiculously big I couldn't help myself.'

Philipp lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes, but his eyes are still laughing.

'Happens to me all the time.'

Then, they just stare at each other, Philipp slowly sipping his drink.

Bastian takes Philipp's hand in his and shakes it.

'I'm Bastian.'

Philipp gives him a funny look, at first, but then realizes. He realizes it's a test.

'Philipp.'

His voice says 'sorry', but he's apologizing for things long forgotten. For Bastian, it's all about future now. So he smiles.

'Can I take you home?'

***  
When they get there, some things are present, and some aren't. There is wine, bitter on their tongues, and kisses, tasting much sweeter. There's no light turned on, and no unrecognizable faces on the wall. There's laugh, and no tears. And everything has changed, but some things stay the same, like Philipp's blue eyes and Bastian's love for them. But, most importantly, now there is no secrets and Bastian likes it just fine.

And when the light comes through and he wakes up, and feels happy, so happy, there's someone warm in the bed next to him, and this someone's little snores defeat the silence. He's not alone, and he's not lonely. And they're going to be fine, he thinks. Just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly cannot believe I actually finished this fic. It took me a century.  
> I'm really sorry about all the delays, and for all mistakes.  
> How was it????


End file.
